Fighting For A Cause
by Laimelde
Summary: Decades after the fall of Sunnydale, Spike returns to Cleveland. He's not looking for a fight, just a quiet drink in a bar. Or is he?


Spike ordered a beer and sat down at the bar. Another week, another city. At least this bar wasn't too bad –he'd seen far worse in the last decade. It was a demon bar, of course, though the odd sleazy human mingled in, making underworld deals with demons. Spike could pick them out a mile away –vampire sense of smell and all that. He kept his distance.

He had only just come to Cleveland. It was generally a place he avoided, being the currently popular hellmouth. Plus it was one of the places where the Scoobies and that group had set up one of their schools after the fall of Sunnydale. He didn't usually visit places where he knew people. Not anymore.

But right now... Well, Cleveland was a big enough city that the demon population could blend in. And a place where he could blend in amongst the demon population. Other places, they had their inhabitants, but it took somewhere like a hellmouth to really have the numbers. Enough so that he could be anonymous.

He heard the bar door open behind him, and noticed a sudden change in the atmosphere. His initial dismissal of the sound was changed by the reactionary silence. It was just like back in the days in Sunnydale, when the Slayer walked into Willy's...

He didn't turn around, and didn't show any reaction when the newcomer stalked over and took the stool next to his. In the background, he could hear some of the other patrons mutter quietly among themselves, while others chose to duck out the door while they could.

"You're a vampire," the girl said.

He glanced at her. "And you're a Slayer." He took another sip of his drink.

She studied him a moment. "I'm supposed to kill you."

"Are you now?"

"Why aren't you scared?"

Spike nearly choked on his drink. "You're kidding, right, love?" He looked at her properly. She was only 14 or 15 years old, he reckoned, with long dark hair and dark eyes. Knew how to wear her clothes, with an attitude to scare most guys away. All young and brash and full of anger. He wondered again whose bright idea it had been to make Slayers out of hormonal teenage girls.

"I don't know how long ago you were called, pet," -he remembered Buffy had said it could happen anywhere in the teenage years, "but I suspect you should still be in school, and not out roaming demon bars by yourself. What do they call it? The Academy?"

She frowned. "I don't need that pompous school. All holier-than-thou, and 'you must do this' and 'you musn't do that'."

Spike chuckled. "I hear ya. All the rules about when and where and how."

"And who," she added, clearly disgusted. "Like there's some list of demon breeds we're not allowed to hurt. And even among the types we can kill, there's lists of names –ones we're not allowed to kill. Why should I have to learn all that?"

"You're a Slayer, you should be allowed to slay."

"I'm a Vampire Slayer," she agreed. "There shouldn't be any exceptions, especially not when it comes to vampires."

He motioned to the bartender for a refill. The man nervously approached, filled the glass and backed away again, careful not to look at the Slayer.

"Any chance you've memorised that list of vamps you're not supposed to kill?"

"Why? Think you're on it?" she asked, disbelievingly.

"No idea," he shrugged. "Never seen it."

There was a pause. She seemed to be waiting for something. Spike decided to fill the gap.

"So you've been to this bar before, pet?"

She frowned. "How would you know?"

"The regulars knew you, soon as you walked in the door. You've been here before and you're bad news to them. Don't need to be a vampire to pick that up."

"So what if I have?"

Spike sighed. "Look love, nothing against you, but I've known others like you who went down this path, and it didn't end well. I'd really advise you to go back to that Academy and listen to what they're teaching you."

"Right, so now it's not only humans and other Slayers bossing me about, but some pansy-ass English vampire who thinks he knows best? That's it!"

Without warning she pulled out a stake and had it arcing towards Spike's heart. Only to find her arm stopped. Spike had grabbed the stake and easily held it.

Spike looked around casually at the suddenly tense bar.

"How about we take this outside, leave these poor people to their drinks?"

"They're not people," she muttered in protest, but Spike simply stood, gulped down his drink, and walked out. He kept a firm grip on the stake and led the Slayer out with it. He hadn't paid for that last drink, but he figured the bartender wouldn't mind, in exchange for not destroying the bar in the upcoming fight.

The Slayer yanked on her stake and Spike released it as they emerged into the dark alley. Immediately, she charged.

"Whoa, whoa, hold your horses," Spike said calmly, dodging her first attack and then gripping her arms so she couldn't move. The stake clattered uselessly at their feet. "If I'm gonna fight ya, I'd at least like to know who I'm fighting."

Her jaw worked as she stared at him angrily. "Lydia," she finally answered.

He tilted his head, considering it. "Lydia. Nice name. Mine's William."

"I don't care." She wrenched out of his grasp and attacked again in a flurry of super fast blows. Spike blocked them without attacking with any of his own. It's not without effort on his part, because she's angry and she's fast –but she's far from the toughest opponent he's faced. She's still young, and mostly untrained. Especially compared to the sparring partner he used to practise with.

After several minutes of attempting to hit him, and having him block every one, she finally backed off for a moment. "What the hell?" she yelled accusingly. "Why aren't you fighting back?"

He shrugged. "I only came for a drink, love."

"You're a piss weak excuse for a demon."

Spike shrugged again. If she was hoping her insults would make him mad, she would be disappointed. He'd heard far worse.

No reason he couldn't have a bit of fun though. Without warning he attacked her. It was a direct blow, and she blocked it easily, and then blocked his next move too.

"That's more like it," she growled. Spike held back a chuckle. Did she think he was attacking because of her insults?

They traded blows, Spike still blocking her moves with patience and not trying anything terribly difficult in return. Then he stepped back and drove his fist at her harder, aiming for her hip.

She blocked it just in time. "Below the belt? Not very manly."

He grinned. "Vampire, evil, remember? We don't fight fair love."

They traded a few more blows, and Spike wished for a time when he felt this was a challenge. There weren't many around who could challenge him though, not these days.

He tried a roundhouse kick, his foot swinging in at chest level on Lydia. She caught it.

"Nice catch. Now what're you gonna do with it?"

Lydia growled and threw him up, spinning, into the air. He landed several feet away, neatly crouched on his feet. "Good move, but you need to do it more instinctively. You're taking too long thinking about it."

Lydia yelled in frustration as she attacked again, full Slayer speed behind her. Spike took a few steps back as he blocked the onslaught of blows, chuckling. He sent a few blows back in return, allowing her to block them, then slipped one past her guard and slapped her lightly on the cheek. Then he danced out of reach, a cheeky grin on his face.

Lydia stared at him in shock.

"You should've seen that one coming, sweetheart. Didn't they teach you anything at the Academy?"

Her cheeks blushed red in embarrassment. "They taught me that it's my job to kill you!"

"Well, alright then. Come and do it."

Lydia attacked him again, and this time Spike only gave her a moment before deliberately tripping her over. She stumbled and caught herself, but she couldn't defend at the same time. Spike grabbed her and held her against him from behind. He leaned forward to whisper in her ear.

"Do you think I'm winning yet, love?"

He couldn't help but take satisfaction in the way she shuddered in his arms. Then she wrenched herself out of his grip and turned to stare from a few feet away.

She started to circle slowly, obviously looking for the next opening. Spike doubted she knew how to recognise a good opening when she saw it, but he circled with her and waited for her to make the move. When she did, he saw it coming a moment before she even shifted, and jumped straight up. She ran right through the spot where he had been standing -with much too much momentum, he thought -and landed neatly on her side of the space. She turned, angry, and charged again -and he repeated his move.

"Come on pet -there should be no way I can pull the same move twice in row and get away with it. Once you've see a move, you should be able to recognise and know how to interrupt it the next time."

"You're just afraid to fight me," she told him, though she didn't sound terribly convincing. "Stop leaping about and fight me properly."

He shrugged. "Okay." He stepped forward and attacked. They traded a few blows, each neatly blocking the other, then Spike dodged her next block and hit her shoulder.

She shook herself. "Didn't hurt."

"Wasn't meant to."

She came at him again and they repeated the same pattern -exchanging blows before Spike got under her guard again. This time the blow landed on her cheek and Lydia backed off a few steps, panting.

"Why didn't you block that one?"

"Huh?"

"That was an easy move, love. You should've blocked it."

"I... I didn't know..."

"What about this one?"

Spike came at her with full vampire speed, sending her stumbling backwards into the wall of the alley. He had her stuck between his own cool body and the wall.

"Now, Lydia, love," he purred, teasingly. "What are you going to do about this?" He bent his head slowly towards her neck.

Lydia hit him, hard, once in the side and then square in the chest. The second blow sent Spike flying across the alley, crashing into the obligatory pile of rubbish beside the back door of the bar. He couldn't help but burst out laughing.

"Nice move, love."

Lydia looked like she was going to march over there and stake him by the power of her anger alone.

Spike quickly reclaimed his feet. Lydia started a new attack, but by now they'd been at it for some time and she was tiring. Spike started getting more hits in –one to the shoulder, a glancing blow off her cheek, one to the side, another to the shoulder again, all while easily blocking all of her blows. He watched with amusement as she started to struggle. For the first time in this fight, she started to doubt herself.

They moved as they fought, and it only took Spike a moment to notice she was moving them towards her stake, still on the ground outside the bar door. He twisted and kicked out to take her legs from under her. She tried to jump but was a moment too late. She landed heavily on her side. Suddenly desperate, she reached out for the stake –just a foot too far out of reach –and Spike stepped between them.

"Now now, I thought we were having fun here, pet. No need for things like that, is there?" Spike picked up the stake and sent it flying out of the alley. Lydia's face betrayed her fear as she scrambled to her feet and watched it sail out of sight.

"A real Slayer would be able to beat me without the unfair advantage of a weapon," he told her, grinning evilly. Lydia started to back towards the entrance to the alley, looking around for any other item she might be able to use.

Spike used his vampire speed to dash past and come up behind her, blocking her exit route.

"Don't tell me you've tired of this game already?"

"No," she replied stubbornly. She tried to attack again but he caught her arm on the first blow, and held it.

"That all you've got, girl? Hmm, Slayer blood. Haven't tasted that in a while. I think this might be my lucky night." He grinned again, enjoying her discomfort. She struggled, but he was so much stronger. He pulled her in close, as though they were lovers and not mortal enemies. His arms pinned hers to her sides, and he lowered his face towards her neck for the second time.

"Can't stop me this time, love."

There was a squeak of fear and a burst of struggling from his captive, and he chuckled, lips just barely brushing her neck.

"That'll do, Spike," called a woman's voice. "You can let her go."

Lydia's head whipped around in surprise as two new people entered the alley. Spike laughed again and released Lydia, who spun away from him defensively.

"Aw Red, and I was having such fun. Lydia here has a good bit of spirit in her." He eyed the petite woman. "Or should I be calling you Snow White now?"

Willow grinned. "I like it, don't you?" She shook her head, and the shoulder-length white hair shone in the streetlight.

Spike grinned. "Suits you."

"Wait –wait, you know this vampire?" Lydia asked, spitting out the last word like venom.

"Lydia," Willow said, all levity fading. "This is Spike. And if you don't know who that is, I'll be having words with Mr Anderson about whether you'll pass history class."

"Spike?" Lydia repeated, recognising the name. "But, but you said your name was William."

Spike grinned at her cheekily. "You think my mother named me Spike?"

"This was a set up!" Lydia said, anger and shock colouring her voice. "You set me up against a vampire-"

"And you lost," Willow stated coldly.

Lydia's jaw snapped shut.

"You have many lessons to learn, young lady," Willow told her. "You are still new to your calling, so you are still surprised by your own strength, which is understandable. But you are not invincible. If this was any other vampire, you'd be dead, and we'd have a vampire high on Slayer blood running around."

Lydia paled, just a bit, but Spike could see it. He pulled out a cigarette and lit up as Willow went on.

"If you want to be a Slayer, and fight the evil things in this world, then you can, but you must learn when and how. You know it's not a matter of just killing the first demon you see, and tonight you nearly learned that the hard way." Willow seemed to think Lydia looked suitably chastened. "You'll go home with Mr Firth now, he'll see you back to your dorm."

She motioned to the younger man beside her, and Lydia nodded, subdued.

"Yes, Miss Rosenberg."

Spike watched them leave.

"Who's he?"

"New Watcher. Only been with us a couple of months."

Spike nodded. "Full of spirit, that girl. Reminds me of Faith."

Willow nodded. "Let's hope we can keep her on a straighter path than Faith's was. Thanks for this, Spike."

Spike shrugged. "Was fun. Not difficult, or nothin', but something to do for a bit. And you know, thanks," he said awkwardly.

"For what?"

"Making me... useful. Been a bit without purpose since she's been gone."

Willow nodded sympathetically. Buffy's death had been hard on all of them, but no one was going to mess with it. Not this time. Spike had disappeared soon after, and no one had seen him for over a decade. Willow hadn't been sure of his response when she had tracked him down with magic last week.

"Anytime," she said easily. "In fact..." Spike looked up suddenly and Willow nearly laughed to see him so hopeful. "If you don't mind hanging around Cleveland for a while, we could use a stronger opponent for the senior Slayers to spar with. Might actually give you a challenge."

Spike nodded thoughtfully. "Might take you up on that, yeah." Willow smiled at his attempt to appear nonchalant. Spike stubbed his cigarette out.

"Catch ya later, Snow White."

"Bye Spike."


End file.
